


Sink or swim

by FreeShavocadoo



Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst/Fluff?, Multi, OT7, Plus one?, but it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: The Prison Gang all struggle with reintegrating into regular life, each dealing with it in different ways.





	Sink or swim

When Jesse wakes up in the morning, he’s by himself. The cold bites against his bare chest, the duvet and countless blankets doing nothing to stop the chill from seeping into his bones. The accommodation in Funk Jungle was far better than anything the Prison Gang had ever had before and it came with the bonus of extra company, but there were flaws to such a big complex, the cold being one of them. It’s not the cold that bothers Jesse so much as the absence of anyone beside him, used to feeling a foot in his back or an arm around him, even hands over his face. It’s less the waking up alone, which Jesse had been used to since a young age, but more the lack of noise in the background. It was only when he got to Rasen that he’d started getting used to constantly being surrounded in the first place.

The room is dark and Jesse doesn’t bother to turn the light on, pulling on whatever clothes lay beside the bed and dragging himself towards the door. He wonders briefly what everyone is up to. He was sure that he’d fallen asleep with at least two people in his bed last night, though the alcohol made his memory of who it was exactly a little hazy. Most of everything was hazy nowadays to Jesse, with fewer jobs to do he finds himself seeking comfort in a bottle the way he used to when he’d lived by himself, only this time he has to suffer through questions about his wellbeing he can’t answer directly. Still, with his trademark smirk and snarky remarks, the questions are usually left unanswered, just the way he likes.

There is almost a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he steps out into the corridor, especially now that it is daytime and it’s absent the usual thumping of Ice’s music and chatter that drifts through the hallways. The doors are all shut and Jesse wonders who he should go to first. From what he can recall, Brown hadn’t had a very good night. Jesse struggles to recall the entire reason as to why, though, a fog seeming to seep into his recollections.

 

* * *

 

 

_The club is bouncing, barely a space on the dancefloor as people spread out to sway to the music and drink in large groups. Jesse has always liked the atmosphere of the Funk Jungle, all dim lights with neon flashes and the sound of people just having a good time. He can see Pho in the distance, dancing as usual, clearly enjoying being able to let loose for once. Where the others are it’s hard to tell, Jesse is positive he saw Akune and Miou were at the bar doing shots, with Akune tossing some over his shoulder whilst Miou was none the wiser, wondering why he’s shitfaced and Akune isn’t. Jesse’s fully aware that it’s less for humours sake or to be seen as more competent with handling alcohol and more so Akune can keep an eye on Miou, who tends to lose all of his inhibitions when drinking. That usually meant he’d start blabbering casually about being put in a foster home at the age of ten and how he doesn’t even remember his parents faces. It doesn’t bother Akune that Miou tells him, he’s just bothered by the casual indifference Miou has when talking about it, as though it’s happened to someone else and not him._

_Nakamon is probably up on the roof smoking, after an hour or so in the club he becomes claustrophobic, even if he denies his reasoning. He tends to spend the rest of the night on the roof, curled under a blanket just staring up at the sky. He’d told Jesse one night that it was because he missed seeing the stars when he was locked up, that he’d had to sleep outside on more than one occasion when he was younger and had nowhere to go. The thought makes Jesse both sad and furious, that Nakamon has to seek comfort in something he’d missed in prison but been forced into when he was younger. Sometimes Jesse ‘accidentally’ leaves his coat up near the stairs to the rooftop, with it occasionally managing to find its way onto Nakamon. A small comfort._

_On the other hand, Mocai sits upstairs, overlooking the club with a drink in his hand he barely takes a sip out of. Unlike most of the prison gang, Mocai isn’t fond of alcohol, having told Nakamon one night that his dad was a raging drunk. He wants to remain where he can see almost everyone, even if only a glimpse. The first few days in Funk Jungle when they’d all been doing their own thing, it had been difficult for Mocai. Jesse had left with Pho, Brown and Miou to go pick up their money for a job, but they’d forgotten to tell Mocai they were going because he was asleep. Ice had told Jesse later never to do it again, that Mocai had ran into his room in a panic wondering where everyone was and why he’d woken up alone. The only reason he calmed down from his hysteria was because Pearl and Bernie had sat down with him for an hour just talking to him, involving him in listening to one of their new tracks. Pho said later that he’d probably never forgive himself for making Mocai panic like that. Jesse tells him he’s got nothing to forgive himself for, that it’s just bad circumstances, but he knows he’ll probably never forgive himself either._

_What makes Jesse the most uneasy is that he can’t spot Brown, especially since Brown is usually right in the centre of all the trouble, revelling in attention and seeking affection from everyone._

_“Yo,” Jesse shouts over the music to Akune, “you seen Brown?”_

_“I think he went to his room?” Akune yells back, looking briefly concerned before being tasked with hoisting Miou back onto his seat, giving Jesse an apologetic glance. Jesse just waves his hand, giving Akune a nod before heading off._

_Weaving through the club at this hour was difficult and Jesse takes time to breathe when he reaches the stairs, walking up a little faster than usual. He isn’t sure why he feels so worried about Brown’s absence, but he prefers not to rest on the feeling and make a quick lunge to Brown’s door, opening it._

_What he isn’t expecting is to see Brown curled up by himself, his face in the pillow. Jesse knows he’s crying before he even sees his face, the familiar shake in Brown’s back and arms indicating enough. The muffled sounds from the pillow make Jesse hurt in a way he doesn’t want to hurt, worse than any punch he’s ever taken, or even the stab wound he’d suffered through in prison. Before he can even process anything else he rushes over to Brown, sitting on the side of the bed and gently holding Brown’s back with one hand._

_“Hey, Brown, babe,” Jesse whispers, leaning down near Brown’s head that is turned away from him and pressed into his pillow, “what’s wrong? Tell me so I can help you.”_

_Brown doesn’t move his head up from the pillow and Jesse knows its bad news, having only seen Brown like this a few times before. When he’s like this its usually less likely to be due to an event and more just the fact he’s melancholy from drinking, especially when he’s left alone. Jesse once said to Brown that he was never made to be alone and he meant it. He knows that Brown was like most of them before they got to prison, with few friends and little trust and so much baggage they could barely stand. The only difference is that Brown manages to retain some form of innocence, especially with all of them, which Jesse is wholeheartedly jealous of._

_“It hurts,” Brown whispers, momentarily moving his head from the pillow, “It hurts, Jesse.”_

_Jesse wishes he were Pho right now, always knowing what to say and how to say it. There’s barely a gentle bone in Jesse’s body and although he wants to tell Brown he’d move the earth for him, he can barely manage to look at Brown without wanting to punch something. It’d be easier if someone had upset him, Jesse thinks, then it would be a simple matter of putting them in their place and moving on. This is the kind of pain that reminds him of his own dark cloud when he was a teenager, the grip his feelings had over him. Whilst Brown is riddled with feelings of abandonment, Jesse is gripped by a constant and unwavering amount of anger, never calm. That suited him just fine in prison where it was always fight, not flight, but now he wishes he could just rid himself of it entirely._

_“I’m here.” Jesse latches his arms around Brown, pulling him into the tightest hug he can muster, holding the back of Brown’s head and stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. Whilst Jesse hadn’t felt a tender touch since he’d met all of them, he’s careful not to inflict that same suffering on any of his boys, even if sometimes his reactions aren’t as obvious as he wants them to be._

_“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers into Brown’s neck, cradling him gently, resisting the urge to squeeze him so tight he’d probably hurt him, overwhelmed on his own just from seeing the way the tear tracks are still fresh on Brown’s face. The redness of his eyes means he’s been crying up here by himself for a long time and Jesse feels useless all over again, but he knows wallowing will only cause more damage, so he saves it for later instead._

_Like clockwork, Nakamon comes in, his blanket still around his shoulders and the smell of smoke still clinging to him. His eyes land on Jesse first, looking inquisitive, until he sees Brown. Jesse wonders if his eyes sharpened the way Nakamon’s did when he saw Brown upset, he knows out of everyone Nakamon can relate to his unbridled anger. Yet as soon as Nakamon sits on Brown’s other side, his face softens completely and Jesse wonders why he’s incapable of softening himself like that for any of them, only ever managing a short stretch of time where he lets the anger seep from his bones and the feeling of what he can only assume is love wrap around him._

_“Hey, princess,” Nakamon whispers, leaning in closer and grasping Brown’s hand, “I’m here, it’s alright.”_

_Brown turns immediately, hurling himself onto Nakamon with reckless abandon and Nakamon’s arms instantly wrap around him, his face remaining soft and unflinching. Jesse can see the way the stress leaves Brown’s shoulders, the way his body moulds perfectly against Nakamon’s, and he hates the way it makes him feel the familiar bile of jealousy rise in his throat. He’d never say anything to them about it, he’d rather die than make them think they were doing something wrong for looking after one another, but Jesse knew old habits die hard._

_Pho always knew when Jesse was feeling this way, even if no words were explicitly spoken. He’d once said that Jesse probably felt this way because he went from being starved for affection to being surrounded by it, so it’s hardly surprising that he struggles to process the feelings accurately. Jesse just thinks he’s always been shit in relationships- platonic, intimate, sexual. The feelings all bundle up until it becomes too much to swallow, his only respite being that he’s able to put on a smile regardless._

_Before he does something stupid, Jesse stands up from the bed, convinced Brown is in more than capable hands, walking towards the door and not looking back. It’ll only make him feel worse._

_“Jesse-,”_

_Nakamon shouts after him, but Jesse shuts the door, walking to his room with a sour taste in his mouth he’s sure will only be quelled by the burning of alcohol travelling down his throat._

* * *

 

 

The door to Brown’s room is shut and Jesse can’t see any light escaping from under the doorway, meaning if someone’s in there they are either sleeping or lay in the dark. It makes Jesse more uneasy than he wants to be, especially when he thinks he’s most likely the cause or continuation of Brown’s crying.

“Jesse.” Pho’s soft voice makes Jesse jump, not that he’d ever admit it. Even when Pho’s hand lands on his shoulder Jesse flinches, turning to look up at Pho.

“What?” He can’t help that he’s snapping. He’s not sure if it’s guilt, sadness or the usual suspect, anger.

Before he has a chance to make up his mind, Pho’s arms are around him, lifting him from the ground slightly as he hugs him. He’s pressed so close to Pho he no longer feels any type of chill from the air, Pho’s face pressed against his neck, his breath hot and ticklish. Jesse feels a sudden overwhelming urge to cry, to just press his face into the shoulder that’s practically moulded to him and cry until he can’t cry anymore. He just can’t bring himself to.

“Tell me,” Pho murmurs near his neck, “tell me what’s bothering you. It hurts to see you like this.”

Even if Pho has the best of intentions it just hammers home the point Jesse has been making to himself the past few months since their release- all he does is upset them. The traits Jesse possessed were made for prison and they suited everyone nicely then, but now they didn’t. His quick temper became a hindrance, even if he’d never dream of raising his voice to any of them. His tendency to see threats were there were none, to be on the lookout, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was setting them all on edge and he hadn’t even noticed until now, when things were quiet.

Still in Pho’s arms, Jesse allows himself to be carried down the corridor as Pho opens the door to his room, shutting it behind him. When he deposits Jesse on the bed, Jesse realises they aren’t alone. Brown and Mocai are tangled up next to one another, limbs splayed and curled so seamlessly it was hard to tell where one started and the other one finished. Jesse feels ridiculous for being so selfish when his boys are lay there, most likely after a night of comforting one another and barely falling into a light sleep.

“Pho, I-, “Jesse’s voice cracks, his eyes brimming with tears and his hands shaking.

Before he can even finish whatever it was he was trying to say, Pho is right beside him, holding him. His sobs are ugly, all shaking and violent, sharp intakes of breath and whining. He can’t even remember the last time he cried.

“It’s okay, Jesse. We’re okay.” Pho whispers, stroking Jesse’s hair and down his back, maintaining contact with him.

“Pho?” Brown’s head lifts from Mocai’s chest, his eyes lidded and confused, regarding the scene before him for a moment before lunging onto them both with such force the three of them land in a pile across the bed.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds frantic, searching Jesse over and staring wildly between him and Pho. His fingers wipe away Jesse’s tears so delicately, so carefully, that it just sets Jesse off again, a small whine escaping as he moves his head right near Brown’s stomach, caring little for where he landed and more about the need for contact.

As though there is some mass radar for one of them being in distress, Akune and Miou throw themselves through the door, tripping over each other in their haste to get into the room. Nakamon steps over them, huffing a little. All three of them crowd around the bed and Jesse can feel their touch, each one of them, and it makes him feel worse for making them worry.

“I’m fine!” His voice is muffled by Pho’s chest, his face pressed against it so firmly it’s a wonder any words come out.

“Just let us take care of you.” Akune scolds him, although his hand continues to run up and down his back, the repetitive motion making Jesse sleepy.

“Did I upset you?” Jesse knows it’s Brown’s voice and when he looks up he can see the anxiety playing on his face, the way he’s biting his lip and staring.

“Of course you didn’t upset me,” Jesse holds his hand out, Brown taking it instantly, “I’m just. I’m just fucked up. It’s catching up with me, y’know?”

Even though it goes against every fibre of his being, letting them all know how much he’s struggling, the weight feels lifted from his chest. The nagging feeling he’s had since he came out of Sun Kings is fading and he hopes it’s a good sign.

“Me too.” Pho replies, every head turning to look at him in shock. Jesse knows he’s not the only one that is probably wondering why they never asked Pho how he was doing, if he was holding up okay. He assumes it’s because everyone thought that Pho handled everything well, the same way Jesse assumed.

Jesse arguably knows Pho better than anyone, in the same way Akune and Miou were on a different wavelength to everyone else. It wasn’t that he cared more about Pho than the others, just that there was a higher level of understanding between the two of them that didn’t need to be acknowledged. He knows that on the surface level Pho seems relatively unchanged, but his quiet moments are near silent now and his smile doesn’t always reach his eyes. He still remembers when Pho stumbled into his room drunk and told him that he was finding life after prison hard.

 

* * *

 

 

_The weight of Jesse on top of Pho is a familiar one, Jesse wasting no time in settling down comfortably, resting his chin on Pho’s chest to stare at him._

_“Tell me.” Jesse demands, holding Pho’s cheek in his hand and running his thumb across his cheek._

_“I don’t know what to do with myself, is all,” Pho sighs, kissing Jesse’s head, “it’s like I never expected to get out of prison because I never expected to get in there in the first place.”_

_“I can’t say this for all of us, but you didn’t deserve to be in prison.” Jesse states, frowning, his thumb ceasing its movements._

_“I feel like when I go back to Little Asia it’s not the same. The kids don’t look at me the same, it’s like I’m….” When he trails off, Jesse takes a moment to take a deep breath, kissing Pho’s collarbone._

_“You help them. You were only put in prison for helping them. You mean the world to those kids, Pho. They’ve told me as much.” Jesse means what he says, even if he wants nothing more than to tell Pho exactly what he needs to hear. He doesn’t like spending time around kids, finding them more intimidating than men, too easy to scare and irreversibly damage. Pho is the one with the affinity for looking after them, not Jesse. But of course when he’s busy, Jesse goes in his place, even if it makes him so anxious he feels slightly ill._

_“I wish I believed that.”_

 

* * *

 

“Pho, why didn’t you tell us?” The look Mocai gives is enough to make Pho’s expression change completely, his gaze averting downwards.

“I think we need to start having group meetings or something,” Nakamon muses, looking around at everyone, “because this shit is too much to go through at once. It’s no one’s fault but we’ve all been wrapped up in our own shit and we need to sort it out.”

Jesse sighs loudly, untangling himself from the mass of limbs on the bed, wondering how they’re all sat on the damn thing without it breaking. Taking in all of the faces around him, he takes time to revel in the care and love that is in the room. It doesn’t suddenly vanquish the feelings he’s had since he was a teenager, but it does a damn good job at softening it.

“What’s going on in here?” Ice pokes his head round the door, his eyes narrowing as he looks around at each of them over his sunglasses. Brown runs to the door and jumps on Ice like a monkey, arms around his neck. Ice laughs, steadying himself and looking at Brown with an affection that only suits Ice, all crinkled eyes and toothy smiles.

“Group therapy, apparently.” Nakamon huffs, clearly slighted by Brown’s abandonment of his position on Nakamon’s lap. Brown as usual is oblivious, too busy marvelling over what he’s calling Ice’s ‘new workout regime’. Ice, also as usual, preens at the attention.

“I can’t believe I cried.” Jesse groans quietly into Pho’s neck, embarrassed. He knows that they probably are all glad to just see _something_ from him, some indication that he’s willing to share what he’s going through, but now it just seems so dramatic. Not that being dramatic is out of character for him, but more that it seems like a major overreaction now.

“Can we get ice-cream?” Miou whines, tugging on Akune’s arm with vigour, relenting until Akune says yes just to shut him up.

“We all good, then?” Ice asks, sitting on the floor beside the bed and staring at the group he had let into his life, his home, so easily. “Y’know when we have disagreements, Bernie calls a ‘group meeting’. Maybe you could all use that.”

“We’d be around a table all fucking day!” Nakamon sniggers, until he gets a swift smack over the back of the head from Akune.

“If that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes. You’ve got all of us to talk to as well, you know. You don’t gotta do it all by yourself. Big groups are hard work.” Ice smiles at them and Jesse knows the only reason his boys agreed to stay at the Funk Jungle is because they all got completely trapped in Ice’s charisma the first time they met. To Jesse, Ice is the other side of his coin. An empathetic leader, genuine, surprisingly level-headed and with an end goal. Jesse on his best day was barely a shadow compared to Ice and he was completely fine with that if it meant getting to stay around him a little while longer.

“Can I just say on behalf of everyone,” Brown seats himself comfortably on Ice’s lap, staring in utter adoration, “we love you!”

Jesse swears he hears Nakamon say ‘speak for yourself’ and resists the urge to laugh, Mocai wrapping around Nakamon instead, ignoring his sounds of protest and attacking him with kisses all over his face. Akune and Miou both jump onto Ice and Brown, piling on top and mocking Brown by whooping the way he usually does, Ice’s muffled protests nothing in comparison to Brown’s whining.

Suddenly, Pho’s eyes meet Jesse’s and it’s like the world is aligned again. The soft brown eyes that he could sink into no longer threaten to drown him, but instead, keep him afloat. As soon as he kisses the palm of Jesse’s hand, Jesse resists the urge to laugh at the symbolism when he considers how he’s just living in the palm of each of his boys hands. There’s enough of him to go around, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it was supposed to be angst but who can keep these boys sad for that long?


End file.
